


Presents Like Presence

by GretchenSinister



Series: The Doors of Perception and Bonus Material [10]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Christmas, Gen, Grief/Mourning, It's a human AU there's only so much time, didn't choose the major character death warning because that's not the focus, it's not on-screen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23402173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: North was the oldest of the original group. Eventually everyone has to face their first Christmas without him.
Relationships: Jack Frost/Toothiana (Guardians of Childhood), Pitch Black/Sanderson Mansnoozie
Series: The Doors of Perception and Bonus Material [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587967
Kudos: 6
Collections: Blacksand Short Fics





	Presents Like Presence

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 12/21/2013.
> 
> This is a "DVD Extra" for The Doors of Perception and should be considered canonical with the main fic.

The house is willed to Kozzy and Sandy, to make things simpler. No one’s sure if anyone’s going to live there permanently, now, but as all the families keep growing, both by blood and not, they’re all pretty sure that someone will always be keeping it inhabited. The kitchen will still get used for Sunday dinners.

It will still be a place to shelter wanderers.

The Christmas afterward is subdued, and when they take the picture on the stairs everyone’s a little confused about what to do about the newly empty space, a little bewildered about how to compose the photograph without the primary focal point.

Dinner in the afternoon is quiet, and after it winds down, there’s no rush to open presents like in past years–even from the youngest children.

Sara’s eleven-year-old leans against her on the couch. “I can’t believe I had to find out that Santa wasn’t real the same Christmas as this one,” she mutters.

Sara begins to offer some words of comfort, when the doorbell rings. Tooth rushes to answer it.

“Special delivery!” says the man at the door, his words made almost incomprehensible by his thick scarf and thicker Russian accent.

“Oh! Ah–from who?” Tooth asks. 

“From who? On Christmas? Who else? Though I let you know I am repaying big, big favor to come out here on Christmas Day.”

Tooth claps her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide and beginning to shimmer.

“Now! Like I said: special delivery." 

The rest of the party looks on in wonder as the man, supported by the questionable aid of three small, energetic children–possibly and probably his grandchildren–carry in stacks of beautifully wrapped gifts and place them under the tree. When they’re done, the man takes an envelope out of his pocket.

"This, I am supposed to read out loud. Is very short, do not worry.” He clears his throat. “If Filip is reading this to you, my friends, then it is clear what has happened to me. But is also clear that you are still having Christmas in the house! And this is more important. Now, have you been playing the piano, and laughing, and singing, all day? Have you eaten so much good food you can hardly breathe? If not, why not? Maybe you want to cry (I am very vain, da?)? Then cry! Sob, do all that at once. Lots of shoulders are there for you now. But then, please, start up with the laughing again. I know you can. 

Merry Christmas!

–North

P.S. Might be nice if everyone hugs everybody else the way I would have. Would start me laughing again, for sure!” Filip looks over the paper again. “That’s all! All right, children, time to go to auntie’s!” He gathers them up, hands the letter to Tooth, and tips his hat to them before leaving the house and returning to his car outside.

Tooth wipes her eyes and sniffs. “Did–did anyone know about this?”

Everyone shakes their head, and more than a few also discreetly wipe their eyes.

“How…” begins someone, and then Tasha stands up.

“How?” she says, “It's _North_. And you know what? He’s right. We shouldn’t be sitting around all dreary like this. And I like the idea of the hugs, darn it. So set that letter down, Mom. You’re first!”

Laughter soon begins to be squeezed out of everybody along with the tears, as everyone gives their best bear hugs to everyone else. When endearments in bad Russian accents join the hugs, some of the tears even become tears of laughter. 

When everyone settles down enough to catch their breath–some laughter and tears still coming, of course, but neither subdued any longer–the presents are quickly passed out.

There’s a specially delivered gift for everyone there, and, by a means that each separate household privately defines later as “magic or something,” they’re all exactly perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments from Tumblr:
> 
> emeraldembers reblogged this from gretchensinister and added:  
> Oh my heart MY HEART #death fic #but not the overwhelming angst of some death fics #this is gorgeous and feelsy and oh #OH #*hearts*
> 
> xxdaimonxx said: i’m both laughting and crying because this was both precious and a punch for my feels
> 
> whentheoceanmetsky said: NO IS SAD D’: But man if North had to go this is probably the best way to go. What a guy.
> 
> bowlingforgerbils said: Oh, I’m blaming Mary, all right, but you’re the one that wrote it! Now excuse me while I sit in the corner and cry and also laugh because North would have wanted it that way.


End file.
